But here or there, turn wood or wire,
He never gets two inches higher.

So fares it with those merry blades,
That frisk it under Pindus' fhades.
In noble fong, and lofty odes,

They tread on ftars, and talk with gods;
Still dancing in an airy round,

Still pleas'd with their own verfes' found;
Brought back, how faft foe'er they go,
Always afpiring, always low.

THE

SAY,

FLIE S.

AY, fire of infects, mighty Sol,
(A fly upon the chariot-pole

Cries out) what blue-bottle alive
Did ever with fuch fury drive?
Tell, Belzebub, great father, tell,
(Says t'other, perch'd upon the wheel)
Did ever any mortal fly

Raife fuch a cloud of duft as I?

My judgement turn'd the whole debate:
My valour fav'd the finking state.
So talk two idle buzzing things;

Tofs up their heads, and stretch their wings.
But, let the truth to light be brought,
This neither fpoke, nor t'other fought :
No merit in their own behaviour:
Both rais'd, but by their party's favour.

4. From

From the GREEK.

GREAT Bacchus, born in thunder and in fire,

By native heat afferts his dreadful fire.

Nourish'd near fhady rills and cooling streams,
He to the nymphs avows his amorous flames.
To all the brethren at the Bell and Vine,
The moral fays; mix water with your wine.

FRAN

EPIGRAM.

RANK carves very ill, yet will palm all the meats; He eats more than fix, and drinks more than he eats. Four pipes after dinner he constantly smokes; And feafons his whiffs with impertinent jokes. Yet fighing, he fays, we must certainly break; And my cruel unkindness compels him to speak ; For of late I invite him

- but four times a week.

}

ANOTHER.

TO John I ow'd great obligation;
But John unhappily thought fit,

To publish it to all the nation :

Sure John and I are more than quit.

ANO

L

ANOTHER.

YES, every poet is a fool,

By demonstration Ned can show it.
Happy, could Ned's inverted rule
Prove every fool to be a poet.

ANOTHER.

THY nags, the leaneft things alive!
So very hard thou lov'ft to drive;

I heard thy anxious coach-man say,
It coft thee more in whips, than hay.

To a Perfon who wrote Ill, and spoke Worfe
against Me.

YE, Philo, untouch'd, on my peaceable fhelf;

Nor take it amifs, that fo little I heed thee:

I've no envy to thee, and fome love to myself:

Then why fhould I anfwer; fince first I must read

thee?

Drunk with Helicon's waters and double-brew'd bub,
Be a linguift, a poet, a critic, a wag;
To the folid delight of thy well-judging club,
To the damage alone of thy bookfeller Brag.

- Purfue

Purfue me with fatire: what harm is there in 't?
But from all viva voce reflection forbear:
There can be no danger from what thou shalt print:
There may be a little from what thou may'st swear.

On the fame Perfon.

WHILE, fafter than his coftive brain indites,

Philo's quick hand in flowing letters writes ::

His cafe appears to me like honeft Teague's,.
When he was run away with by his legs.
Phoebus, give Philo o'er himself command;
Quicken his fenfes, or restrain his hand;
Let him be kept from paper, pen, and ink:
So may he cease to write, and learn to think.

“Quid fit futurum cras fuge quærere—”

OR what to-morrow fhall disclose,

FOR

May spoil what you to-night propose:
England may change; or Cloe ftray :
Love and life are for to-day.

A BALLAD of the NOTBROWNE MAYDE.

Written three hundred years fince *.

A.

E it ryght, or wrong, these men among on women

BE

do complayne;

Affyrmynge this, how that it is a labour spent in

vayne,

To

*So Frior. First printed about 1521, fays Capel.

To love them wele; for never a dele thy love a man

agayne:

For late a man do what he can, theyr favour to attayne, Yet, yf a newe do them pursue, theyr fyrst true lover than

Laboureth for nought; for from her thought he is a banyshed man.

B.

I say nat, nay, but that all day it is bothe writ and fayd, That womens fayth is, as who fayth, all utterly decayed:

But, nevertheleffe, ryght good wytnèffe in this cafe might be layed,

That they love true, and continue; recorde the notbrowne mayde;

Which, when her love came, her to prove, to her to make his mone,

Wolde nat depart; for in her hart she loved but hym

alone.

A.

Than betwayne us late us dyfcus what was all the manère

Betwayne them two; we wyll alfo tell all the payne, and fere,

That he was in: nowe I begyn, fo that ye me anfwère;

Wherfore, all ye, that present be, I pray you gyve an

ere:

I am the knyght; I come by nyght, as fecret as I can; Sayinge, Alas, thus ftandeth the case, I am a banyshed

man.

B. And

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